It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. What!— you know so little of that child? She ran away from you. Still no sound. “Excuse me?” Mike threw Michelle a strange look, bursting into a grin. A door, it may be remembered, opened from Wild's dwelling into this yard. Wood, regarding her husband with a glance of vindictive triumph.
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